


And They Lived

by innusiq



Category: Captain America (Movies), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innusiq/pseuds/innusiq
Summary: Sebastian closes his eyes, hands grabbing at his shaggy hair and pulling, releasing an angered growl before asking with a pleading look,  “Aren’t you tired?”“What, of course I’m feeling a little jet lagged, and see a nap in the not so distant future but...”He’s cut off by a bitter laugh.“Isn’t our entire life a battle with jet lag?  A battle against time that’s never enough?  That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
Relationships: Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	And They Lived

Each morning dawns a blank page, another new day awaiting the drafting of a million possibilities, all anxious to be scrawled across its empty page, creating chapters full of good choices and bad decisions, heartfelt hopefulness and overthinking pessimism, wanting selfishness and selfless forfeit, warring for their chance to dominate a moment of life and ultimately ending in equal consequences, regardless of the winner and loser of the day’s battle. While life isn’t just another script waiting to unfold with its known plots and twists and outcomes, staged marks set to be hit with accidental bloopers and blunders along the way, there are still mornings Chris finds himself wishing for just that, a writer and director taking the reins for just one day, making choices he can trust won’t tailspin the world he knows into a fiery crash and letting him breathe easily, freely, knowing the decisions made, the directions being given, will end on the positive side of possible outcomes.

Then again, those are only fleeting thoughts on the harder days because in reality, Chris would never give up his life to another’s whim. Case in point, had he left the decision of yesterday in the hands of his management team, Chris would already be back in Massachusetts making arrangements to pick Dodger up from his sister’s place and hiding out in his hometown with the rest of his family for a moment of grounding reality ahead of Dodger’s scheduled hip surgery. While that option would be more than welcomed, a calming resetting of his life and thoughts before moving on to the next promotional demand or production obligation, there was something more important needing addressed before he simply returned his life _back to normal_ , if there ever really was a normal in his day to day life.

Sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed (a bed that isn’t anywhere near his East Coast home), naked as the day he was born, Chris knows deep down his selfish choice was one made on the good end of the spectrum, even in the face of disapproving voices on the other end of the phone saying things like, _that is ill-advisable_ and _it could be counter productive of the past weekend’s arrangements_ and also _be prepared for the consequences if you’re not careful_. He had literally laughed at that one. Wasn’t he always careful? Weren’t _they_ always careful? Aside from speculating fans bleeding the whole Steve and Bucky dynamic into the reality of the actors who portray them on screen (despite the unknown accuracy of those speculations), there’s nothing he nor Sebastian have ever let slip that warranted the reprimands they’ve received time and again. In the end, it was a returned yet unseen nod and roll of his eyes, along with a voiced (albeit more than a little annoyed) _understood_ that granted Chris a one-way ticket to New York, and two weeks of self quarantine at his instance because he really didn’t want to waste medical testing resources if he could help it (something he didn’t have a choice over when heading to England) just so he was free to gallivant around the good old U.S.A. He can hold videoconferences at Sebastian’s apartment just as easily as his own home, thank you very much, not to mention he’s in no mindset to gallivant anywhere. If Chris is lucky, he can maybe even talk Sebastian into joining him in reuniting with Dodger and his family after these two weeks, and spending a few additional weeks with them before Sebastian heads down to Atlanta for the next round of Marvel filming.

Locating his errant boxer-briefs at the top of the stairs leading down from the bedroom loft, Chris rises from the bed and strides over to grab the black underwear and slips them on while making his way to the full bathroom off the right of the bedroom area to take care of nature’s insistent morning call, along with brushing his teeth and a quick washing of his face to help further wake up. After wiping down his face and a scrub to his beard, before exiting the bathroom to locate his missing boyfriend, Chris takes a good look at himself in the mirror: eyes tired (something two weeks and then some of respite will do wonders to correct), mouth that’s not so much set in a frown but as close to resting bitch face as he’s ever seen, and just as Chris turns to make his exit he’s surprised to catch sight of bruising on his right clavicle and another, smaller but still noticeably _there_ spot on the side of his neck too. 

It’s not often they leave noticeable marks on each other, usually when they do it’s on areas easily hidden by clothing, but the neck is generally off limits. Too many questions requiring lies to cover that they’d rather not bother dealing with. Examining the marks again causes a stutter in his chest that is near to pounding as he recalls the franticness of their reunion the night before. When Sebastian, being none-the-wiser to Chris’s string-pulling with his management team, opened the door to find Chris with luggage in hand, there was definite surprise at first but it was barely a matter of seconds before Chris was being hauled into the apartment and pushed up against the closed door, any greeting words he’d planned saying devoured by the mouth he had missed long before his trek to England and Sebastian’s own to Spain. How they even made it up the stairs to Sebastian’s bed is still beyond Chris’s recollection. They’ve barely exchanged two meaningful words that didn’t involve their own names and curses around moans and hums, demands and groans of want and appreciation, of finally getting what they’ve pined for over the last couple months. One striking memory after all that was not so much said but definitely done is how tightly Sebastian clung to him in the aftermath. Chris isn’t one to shy away from a good after sex cuddle or any cuddle really. Sebastian takes great pleasure in teasing Chris about being a _cuddle-starved octopus_ because it’s no secret Chris is a sucker for and pretty much demands cuddles on the regular, but Sebastian has never really been the initiator of such intimacy. It stands as a giant red flag that all is not well between them and that they really do need to talk.

Shaking himself, Chris exits the bathroom, grabs the first T-shirt he finds and slips it on as he makes his way to the lower level of the apartment where he finds Sebastian standing in front of the half wall of window overlooking the city. Sebastian is quiet, wearing a pair of black, loose fitting sweatpants along with a white T-shirt (Chris realizing they are wearing each other’s shirts), and seems to be lost in thought because there is no acknowledgment received by Chris’s not so stealthy, creaky stair descent from the bedroom loft. Chris doesn’t so much as sneak up behind Sebastian, but he might as well have with how zoned out Sebastian seems to his surroundings.

“Mornin’, Babe,” Chris murmurs, arms wrapping around Sebastian’s waist just below Sebastian’s own crossed over chest. Chris places a lingering peck at the junction of shoulder and neck, over a matching bruise to Chris’s own, and hums resting his chin on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Whatcha’ thinking?”

There’s a silence that draws out between them. The only noise taking up space being their inhales and exhales, and the air conditioning cycling back on. The quiet isn’t comfortable nor is it uncomfortable, more a precursor of electric shooting off little warning sparks ahead of an arced explosion sizzling under wires, or skin as the case may be. Chris waits out the silence, holding on tighter, offering strength Sebastian needs to speak, even if this ends up in a blowout he’d rather continue ignoring for another day, but in the end already understands needs to happen sooner rather than later.

“I just…,” Sebastian begins, hesitating in what needs to be said, what they both need to hear, and yet seems as ill prepared as Chris. Easier to continue ignoring the dreaded inevitable and enjoy what they can for as long or short time they have been granted than face an altering reality.

“I…” Sebastian tries and pauses again, shaking his head and turning around in Chris’s arms, smiling in a way that is far from happy or content, and definitely not believable, looking more broken and lost, but he continues. “It’s noth… nothing. It’s nothing really.”

Sebastian pulls away, putting some distance between them, and Chris can respect the need for space. He rests his hands on his hips, watching Sebastian pace in small steps, biting at the side of a thumb out of habit when struggling with the words he wants to say, brow wrinkled in thought. When Sebastian turns to meet Chris’s eyes, there’s uncertainty and fear and resignation, a man who appears to have aged overnight and yet looks as young and naive as the day they first met.

_God_ , he remembers how innocent Sebastian seemed when they first met, quiet and sweet, hedging on almost too shy for the business of acting. Respectful and courteous to those known in the business and unknown alike because to Sebastian, everyone put their pants on one leg at a time and he treated them all equally, regardless of who could do what for his career (still does to this day). Even that no name, unknown person wielded power if he stepped the wrong way, and for an up and coming actor it was best not to court that disaster early on. Hell, it even took them a few months of working together before Sebastian finally opened up to the point where they found shared commonality, little inside jokes blossomed and passed back and forth, and eventually a certain pull developed between them, one that took a couple years before either had the courage to take a chance on exploring the possibility of not just satisfying a short lived desire but seeking a connection, a relationship, grabbing onto the other half that filled a void neither realized had been waiting for the other. 

Before him now Chris sees a man questioning and second-guessing _everything_. He sees a little bit of the Sebastian he first met all those years ago, except this Sebastian looks near breaking, and knowing it’s Chris himself who has the power to make or break Sebastian is overwhelming. The fact Chris already knows if he breaks Sebastian he would ultimately be breaking himself is telling of a whole other matter at hand.

“Hey, Seb, talk to me,” Chris attempts, reaching out but making contact is quickly shut down when Sebastian flinches back, breath shuttering in and out. Chris doesn’t take it personally, but it does increase his worry and ignites his own head noise into a whirling and circling mess of what ifs and fears that this moment could be the end. “What’s going on?”

Sebastian closes his eyes, hands grabbing at his shaggy hair and pulling, releasing an angered growl before asking with a pleading look, “Aren’t you tired?”

“What, of course I’m feeling a little jet lagged, and see a nap in the not so distant future but...”

He’s cut off by a bitter laugh. 

“Isn’t our entire life a battle with jet lag? A battle against time that’s never enough? That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” Pausing, taking a moment to look at Chris, examine, evaluate, almost looking through to his core, and then the look shifts to express sadness and resignation, a look he is familiar with seeing but usually it’s pointed at him through the eyes of a character, take after heartbreaking take, not Sebastian standing before him raw and exposed, and looking about ready to give up. “Don’t you get it?”

This is the moment, the page in the script of his life Chris is itching to revise, or have his mark reset, or for someone to shout cut where he’s permitted time to review and rethink his lines, along with receiving additional directive from the person behind his life’s camera, but there isn’t a script of lines or anyone behind any sort of camera. There is only Chris and Sebastian, and one wrong string of words or move or decision waiting to be made. One wrong misunderstanding that could scrap whatever progress they’ve made in the life they’ve allowed to play out, their relationship (as fledgling as it is) hanging in the balance of his ability at being an adult that on the downward slope of thirty-something, even he questions his own capacity of making decisions of a man his age.

“Make me _get it_ ,” he chances, _stalling_ , hoping to gain a bit more understanding of where Sebastian’s own thoughts and worries and brain-noise has lead his boyfriend. To understand what needs revised and adjusted, or just plain scrapped for them to move in a better direction, the right direction, for the both of them. “ _Make_ me understand.”

Sebastian instantly deflates, and looks to have shrunk two or three inches. In reality he hasn’t obviously, Sebastian is as tall as he’s ever been, but there’s a vulnerability that has Sebastian retreating into himself, wanting to hide or perhaps escape from the conversation. Running fingers through his hair again, Sebastian walks over to collapse on the couch and stares at the apartment ceiling, just breathing. At first it’s quick and panicked inhales and exhales, but as Sebastian’s fingers repeat their comb and pull through his hair, his breathing begins to slow as thoughts settle and arrange for voicing. When Sebastian begins speaking, his eyes don’t leave their focus on the ceiling.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

The statement causes a stutter within Chris’s chest, his own breath catching, nearly choking. A boulder sized knot settles in the pit of his stomach at the mere thought that everything between them could be ruined before they even had a chance to really get going. It’s barely been two years since their relationship moved from innocent bro-flirting to something more substantial and long lasting. It was Sebastian then, making the bold, first move on the official opening night of his Broadway debut, appearing at his doorstep late into the night (long past last call of the after party and still a couple hours before sunrise) asking, _Can we stop being idiots now?_ Chris had never been more thankful he’d only acquired a one bedroom apartment for his stay in New York causing his mother to have been booked into a hotel within walking distance to the theater that night. Chris’s response was to grab hold of Sebastian’s sweater, and pull him in saying, I’m always gonna be an idiot, but I can definitely stop being stupid with you.

Sebastian didn’t leave until the next morning, and only then due to appointments that couldn’t be rescheduled and Chris’s own theater obligations and brunch date with his mother, but it was still a hopeful start. A beginning they’d both wanted but were just too _stupid_ to reach out and grab until that moment.

“Seb…”

Sebastian makes eye contact then, holding up a hand. 

“Let me finish…” Sebastian pauses, both hands dropping to his lap. “I know being an actor comes with obligations, that it’s more than my acting ability I need to provide, but an image those I work for require to be on the up and up. I get that means walking the _straight_ walk, because God knows a gay man, or bisexual, or whatever other identification that isn’t strictly hetero-normative, can’t pull off a strong leading or supporting role in any big budget project. Hell half the time they don’t even hire those _alternative lifestyle_ actors to fill such roles, but does it have to be this? Flying halfway across the world just to have a few pictures taken with a beautiful woman, during a pandemic mind you, and the adage of any publicity (good or bad) is free publicity and will pay off? My name dragged in the mud by people who _claim_ to be fans and the crazies digging deeper than they need to prove the unworthiness of someone they didn’t even know existed before that moment, nor someone I seriously care about beyond passing goodwill? What the fuck?”

“It’s just acting,” Chris hedges, thinking back to an evening party and a day walking around London with the paparazzi in the distance, poking noses where they were meant to but in normal reality would have had no right, all for the sake of a little attention ahead of another project release and to shine light in a safer direction for his career. “I mean, it’s not rocket science for us, we do that every day on any given set.”

“Sure,” Sebastian sardonically agrees, disbelief coloring his words. “If you don’t care about the project. It’s acting, but it’s like acting off a script I don’t believe in, like I’m back at square one of my career, my first role and I don’t have a say in what that role is, just that I’m getting screen time and paid. So yeah, sure, it’s acting just like that, except here, by now, I kind of thought I made it further, reached a point in my career where I could actually _have_ a life. I thought I could have more than just a career by this stage, and that my job could actually be separate from my personal life, but obviously that was all wishful thinking. _Apparently_ , no matter how good an actor I am, no matter the acclaim projects I’m attached to receive, having a life outside the screen, that _we_ could have, is just that, _wishful thinking_.”

“Seb...”

“Why are we even trying if this, fleeting weekends when our schedules align and questioning when the next leading lady enters the picture if that will be the moment you decide this isn’t worth it anymore? That I…”

“Woah! Woah, woah, _woah_.” The sucker-punch of Sebastian’s words hits deeper than any impromptu physical right hook served specifically to bruise and damage. Chris knows they aren’t being delivered for the purpose of causing pain, but more out of self preservation and Sebastian’s need to hide insecurities and fears, but in the end they still hurt just as deep, and it takes all the strength Chris has to not fight back with equally brutal jabs. He may not throw his own punch back but he expresses his reaction nonetheless. “What the fuck, Seb? What the actual fuck?”

Defensive accusations give way to regretful guilt in Sebastian’s eyes before they downcast and he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “Sorry... I don’t… I didn’t mean....”

“No, I think you did mean,” Chris interrupts, still stinging but trying to work passed it. “Is that what you really think is going to happen? I’ll wake up one day and realize this has been a waste? That what we have is meaningless? Is that how little you think of me? Is that how little you trust me?”

Sebastian gives a weak shrug, the conviction behind his earlier words faltering as he leans forward to rest forearms on his knees, eyes fixed on the floor. 

“No... I don’t... I think...” 

A heavy exhale is released as Sebastian turns up his head again to look at Chris, eyes pleading for Chris to understand, and the worst part of this whole situation is that of course he understands the strain their relationship can experience. He feels it every damn day when the best he can offer is a FaceTime call that leaves them both relieved on one hand and yet completely unsatisfied on the other. Isn’t it true they spend more time with their fellow costars and directors and set staff than each other? Is it so out of character to worry past habits would repeat themselves? They are both equally guilty of dating fellow leading and supporting ladies, and with their dry spells not going unnoticed in the public eye, it was of course deemed necessary by management to rectify, hence the overseas ruses. No matter how hidden they’ve kept their relationship, it still feels like existing under a microscope, waiting to be picked apart when the wrong person finally notices _them_ and spills the beans out of the need of being the first to report, but recently there have been days Chris wonders if it would be so bad if that happened? 

Would it be so bad if his life received that unexpected cue and direction towards the path less travelled, down the road of discovery? Sure there’d be negative ramifications on both their lives. Regardless of the fact that back when he signed his contract with Marvel, he was still the same bisexual man he is today and pulled off the role spotlessly with the powers that be being none the wiser, but if he’d been open about that one aspect of his personal life back then, would they have even taken a chance and signed him? Would Chris be where he stands today, with more than enough savings in the bank to float him to the end of his life should he never take another role again, and yet stacks of scripts and offers waiting for possible acceptance and the end of this god awful pandemic? It’s that _what if_ uncertainty that’s been the main reason they’ve kept things between them under wraps, but what’s passed is passed, and there is no going back to see how the what ifs would have played out. And now, there still isn’t anyone standing off the sidelines of his life to point out the next cue to follow. There isn’t anyone able to make such a life altering decision in any Hollywood celebrity’s life except the celebrity themself. It’s solely up to Chris, and Sebastian of course, to choose this possible new path, and maybe the time is right. Maybe, that time is now.

“Hey,” Chris croaks, surprised by the tightness in his throat as he closes the distance between them. Reaching out, touching, hands cupping around Sebastian’s cheeks, thumb stroking the gray patch of beard at Sebastian’s chin he’s always drawn to when Sebastian lets it grow out. They aren’t old, not really, but that one spot reminds him they aren’t getting any younger either and that time is slipping away faster than he’d like. There’s a tremor he can feel beneath his own skin now, giving away his nervousness, but he pushes on to offer a wobbly yet hopeful smile. “ _Hey._ ”

“Sometimes, this...” Sebastian attempts, voice hitching in hesitation, but he seems to gain the courage needed to push through. “Some days it feels so hard. Loving you... that’s easy. The easiest thing in the world. Easier than acting, easier than breathing, but hiding that part of me, of _us_ , gets harder and harder every day.”

“God, _Sebastian_ , I finally figured out what I was feeling for you back during Winter Soldier filming, watching Bucky’s emotions play through your eyes... I mean, there had always _something_ between us before, lingering, building, but it was watching your love for the character that tugged me over the edge. So much devotion… I could see you were an all in kind of guy, and the problem then for me was, still is to this day, so am I. I always fall fast, and I fall hard. My mom says it’s what gets my heart in trouble most times. At first I thought maybe it was simply character bleed from the chemistry we’d built between Steve and Bucky, but then it didn’t stop when we were done filming. I would miss our set times and off set moments while on location. I quickly realized the more we were apart it wasn’t the work I missed, or the overall cast camaraderie, it was _you_ , but I didn’t know what to do with that. I’d only allow myself to enjoy each moment we had, looking forward to the next scene we filmed together, and the promotion tours that followed. I couldn’t risk everything that was still to come. So many years left of contracts and obligations, and I wasn’t sure if maybe I was just reading things wrong. If I was the only one…”

“I know,” Sebastian insists, tacking hold of Chris’s hands, squeezing. “I know, it was the same for me too, and it’s not that I don’t get it. I _get_ it. There was more than _us_ at stake then...”

“Exactly!” Chris continues, needing to work through thoughts before chickening out. “But now, our situation is different, isn’t it? My contractual obligations to Marvel are over. I know you have a few appearances left on yours but… I mean… You were the brave one back in New York opening night of Lobby Hero, so maybe it’s my turn to be the brave one now.”

“What? No… Chris…”

“Hey,” Chris starts again, taking to his knees to bring himself more level with Sebastian, hands cupping around Sebastian’s neck as he presses their foreheads together for a second before pulling back and continuing. “I can’t guaranty a smooth and easy road ahead for either of us if we choose to go public, or at least to not hide so much at first and work our way to public acknowledgment. And I’m not saying we make this decision today, but I think my career… No, that isn’t what’s important. Fuck Hollywood. What I mean is I know that is something I want, being open and honest and not hiding or lying, and I need to make sure you know that too. I need _you_ to know that I am not looking at any future that doesn’t include you. You are it for me.”

The response from Sebastian is quiet awe and tears and a little disbelief staring back at Chris, and when the deeper meaning of what he just admitted sinks in, he can’t deny feeling exactly the same.

“Um… that kind of sounded a bit like a proposal, didn’t it?” Chris questions cautiously.

Sebastian nods, eyes still wide and responding just as trepidly. “Y-Yeah… it kind of did.”

“I… Um… I might not be quite ready for that.”

Sebastian responds with a quiet burst of laughter before he thankfully agrees. “Neither am I, Chris. Neither am I.”

Chris nods, taking a breath to think because it isn’t that marrying Sebastian would ever be a mistake. Now that the idea is there, seed planted and growing, it isn’t so much _if_ they move to the next step of engagement and eventually marriage, but more _when_ , and when that does happen Chris knows it has to be done right, because Sebastian deserves the world, and Chris quickly realizes he must have said that last part out loud as the admittance has tears slipping from Sebastian’s eyes again as the man covers his own mouth to stop the accompanying sob and whispered, _Oh God._

“But…” Chris attempts to continue but is stopped by Sebastian shaking his head. 

“Stop… Stop, please, I’m already ugly crying like some Disney Princess finally getting her Prince Charming…”

“I’m no Prince Charming, that’s for sure, but you, _Sir_ ,” Chris amends, hand brushing hair off Sebastian’s forehead as he continues, “are prettier than any Disney Princess I have ever seen.”

“Dork,” Sebastian teases through a snorted sob, pushing at Chris’s shoulder but he’s also laughing, and that is the best sound Chris has heard all morning.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork, right?”

Sebastian sobers up in that moment, eyes softening and maybe misting a little more, but he nods, and swallows, and speaks in a cracked voice, “Y-Yeah, definitely _my_ dork.”

Chris is more than thankful his life _isn’t_ directed by some hidden person standing off the sidelines because this is the exact moment the director would be yelling things out like _Cut_ or _That’s a wrap_ , calling for the scene’s end, and this moment is anything but an ending. This right here, right now, is the beginning of the best part of his life and the only other person having any say in the next step is the man sitting before him, still smiling through happy tears and Chris knows that as long as it’s Sebastian by his side, the future will be nothing but a screen worthy of the cheesiest scripted phrase, _And they lived happily ever after_.


End file.
